


A moment of silence

by OnlyDeadOnTheOutside



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 19:09:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21213620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyDeadOnTheOutside/pseuds/OnlyDeadOnTheOutside
Summary: Harry really should've known better to ask for the chance to start again. He should've realised fate would take any and all chance to fuck him over. Yet he never considered the thought of dying in a mugging. Nor that he would then somehow end up more than 80 years in the past, thrown right into the middle of the first great war. What a bitch fate was. Least Harry was left with something nice to look at.





	A moment of silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayMarlow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayMarlow/gifts).

Harry looked to his watch a sigh leaving his mouth as the minute hand slowly ticked closer to midnight. A minute left, a minute until he turned 21. Harry smiled a small smile thinking of the ticket to America which sat with his passport in his bag. His thoughts drifted to the letter he left Ron, Hermione and Ginny. He loved them of course, yet it felt refreshing. To be leaving to be starting again. To not be Harry Potter. They would be angry of course, angry he left, angry he didn’t tell them in person. Furious he was leaving Ginny a weak before they were to be married. The more he thought of it though, saw how they remained the same after the war. The way they moved on like it hadn’t been as impactful to their whole civilisation. Harry shook his head. He couldn’t understand, couldn’t adjust; couldn’t help but miss the constant action. The constant adrenaline from being on the run. It was one of the few times he had felt truly free, truly himself since first entering the wizarding world. Yet a life with Ginny meant falling into that mould; His eyes drifted to the cake he had drawn onto the dirt. They of course always argued that he would be able to achieve all that as an Auror. Which might’ve been true if he wasn’t Harry Potter. If he hadn’t had eyes watching his every action. Watching…waiting. For what Harry chose not to think too hard about.

The soft chime of Harry’s alarm went off. 

“Make a wish Harry” He whispered to himself with a sad smile the summer breeze blowing his hair back.

Harry took a deep breath. 

‘I wish… to find someone who understands.’

Harry blew as hard as he could sending the dirt cake flying as the wind picked up around him.

“Now, I’m gonna trust you, fate, destiny. Whatever it is that’s thrown me into the insanity of my life so far. Don’t fuck me over again yeah? You can have my soul or my first born or something. Just let me start again” Harry laughed tiredly to himself and stood up, his bag hanging loosely from his shoulder.

With a final look around the park he stood in, Harry took a deep breath and started walking towards the nearest bus stop thoughts of what he could do in America swirling through his head. Would he stay there? Or perhaps he would travel the world. Explore magic at its very core, explore how it had developed in different environments. Harry laughed to himself the thought leaving him exhilarated.

A body knocked him to the side forcibly dragging his bag down his arm; Harry barely remained gripping onto it.

“What the?” His eyes met the hooded gaze of his assailant who pressed something hard and cold against his midsection.

A deafening crack echoed through the street, a bullet tearing through his stomach leaving a gaping hole in its wake. The hole only remained gaping for a moment before a flood of blood started gushing out. Harry felt his body fall forward in shock his grip slackening on the bag.

Dazedly he reached his hands to press against his stomach, his ears ringing as the sound resonated in his ears. His eyes which had drifted down lifted to look up at the muggle who was apparently mugging him. Only to blink slightly confused as the street behind the man flashed to a field with long narrow ditches in the distance. The man flashed back to the forefront of his eyes and yet he seemed still, almost frozen. Or perhaps that was the shock? Harry coughed and yet no sound followed. No raspy breaths. Even the ringing from the gun seemed to have stopped. All he was left with was silence.

A single moment of silence.

The sound returned to Harry as another deafening crack pierced the air followed by voices. So many voices. Harry looked around dazed. There was no one there…but there was? His eyes scrunched up a flashing bright light taking over his vision. One moment he was alone in the street only the muggle in front of him. The next so much empty land. Only dirt and ditches everywhere his eyes turned. Another flash. The muggle was back in front of him. Harry tried to reach forward as the light flashed again. The field?

Harry’s eyes drifted shut as his head started pulsating. 

A hand gripped his shirt and pulled him back, causing his eyes shoot open. Almost in slow motion Harry fell back and landed harshly on the ground.

“What were you thinking boy?” A gruff voice muttered to Harry reminding him eerily of Mad Eye Moody. “Thompson, do what you can then send him on a stretcher.” The voice ordered glancing at a dazed Harry’s stomach.

“Is…is this hell?” Harry murmured the sound of guns echoing louder and louder in his ears.

A tall man who knelt next to Harry gave a wry grin. 

“I feel at this point Hell would be the kinder option.” He murmured opening Harry’s shirt. “But I suppose that is the curse of trench life.” The man grinned tiredly down at Harry. “I just hope this is all over soon. My sons turning three soon. He is as old as this damned war. My only wish is I get to return to him. To meet him, and if not, well I pray to the lord that this is the only war like this.” The man shook himself. 

“Sorry son, this is not going to be enjoyable.”

Harry felt his mind stutter as his brain tried to catch up to what this Thompson was saying. Trench life… he took in his surroundings. His clothes. The smell of death in the air. He was dreaming right? There was no way…

He couldn’t have…

“Sir, what year is this?” Harry rasped hesitantly.

The man blinked at him. “You really must have had the sense knocked out of you.” He opened a small medical kit.

“1917 my boy, now…” Harry fell into Morpheus’ waiting arms before Thompson could finish his sentence. 

**Author's Note:**

> So normally I love my history yet I could never make myself interested in the history of WW1 and it was never exactly taught to me in school and here I am with a plot haunting me that is set in WW1. Be prepared for a ride of many possible historical inaccuracies. I'll try be limiting how many occur of course.  
This hasn't been Beta read at all.  
Hope you enjoyed the first chapter!


End file.
